Get Your Priorities Straight
by Hikaru Morinaga
Summary: "Sometimes I think you love that laptop more than you love me." "It's an inanimate object, Duo," says Heero, "I can't love something that isn't alive." Duo knows it's stupid and irrational, but let's face it, that laptop spends more time on Heero's lap than he does. Duo's had enough. 1x2. One shot.


**Get Your Priorities Straight**

"Sometimes I think you love that laptop more than you love me." Duo's pouting from the worn out armchair in the corner of the living room, not paying any attention at all to the television that's currently doling out today's news. He folds his arms.  
Heero reclines on the sofa, fingers flying a mile a minute across the keyboard, numbers dancing across the screen. He's not doing anything interesting, even to him, but he's tired of the news and wants something to keep his mind busy.

Keeping busy for Heero Yuy is making sure the Vice Foreign Minister doesn't get accosted or maimed or assassinated. He'd make a great bodyguard, but Heero can't spend most of his time doing nothing but scanning the same four walls of a room and trying to see if his Suspicious People meter pings.  
Duo hates it because it keeps that laptop glued to his desk. Or knees. Heero once brought it into bed, and Duo had to resist the urge to toss it out the window. He damn near did, too, but he knew Heero's reflexes would prevent it. He rolls his eyes at the recollection.

"It's an inanimate object, Duo," says Heero, "I can't love something that isn't alive."  
Duo snorts. "Sure you can. I just wish that sometimes you'd pay attention to the animate object that lives with you and sleeps with you occasionally more than you pay attention to that puny thing."  
Heero fingers the lid of the laptop, right by the hinge. It's not a caress and Duo knows it, like he knows it's completely irrational to be jealous over a computer. But let's face it, that laptop spends more time on Heero's lap than he does.

_Still fucking jealous as all hell._  
Duo stands, determination in his eyes. He clicks the TV off and leaves the remote in between the seat cushion and the arm of the chair like he always does. He doesn't want Heero to notice anything 'off'. Duo walks past the sofa, not giving Heero so much as a glance.  
_Make it look like you're going to the kitchen for a beer._  
Duo waits in the kitchen for what feels like forever, though it's only been a minute and a half. For good measure he fumbles through cabinets and draws, mutters a bunch of gibberish punctuated with a cuss, like he's desperately trying to find something and is annoyed. Duo is annoyed and he is trying to find something, but unfortunately the baseball bat he wishes he owned wouldn't be in the teeny kitchen drawers with the stockpile of plastic utensils and chopsticks Duo hoards whenever they order take-out.

_Now.  
_  
Duo struts back into the living room. Heero's barely moved since the last time Duo saw him two minutes ago. He stops right in front of the sofa and without so much as stopping, grabs the laptop, closes it, and throws it to the opposite side of the room.

The only sound in the room is the sound of the LCD screen breaking.

Heero's hands are poised in the air like he's about to type something, but can't figure out what he wants to say. He blinks. He still hasn't moved. Duo's thanking God and every deity up in Heaven and Nirvana and Elsewhere that he's already the God of Death, because you can't kill the God of Death, or any god really.  
Heero probably could, though. He's laughed at Death before. (He's laughed at Duo before, too.) If anyone could kill an immortal, it would be Heero Yuy.

No one moves. Duo says nothing. He's waiting for a response, any sort of response-a punch in the gut (he deserves it), a punch in the face (he deserves that too), a loaded gun barrel pressing against his head...  
Heero relaxes his hands - they fall onto his lap instead of on keys.

Duo's on the couch now, his legs straddling Heero's, one hand in his hair and the other fisting the front of his shirt. He's surprised Heero hasn't punched him yet, though Heero's hands are now on his bicep and shoulder. He's not resisting, which is a good sign.  
Duo pins Heero to the couch, releases his grip on Heero's shirt in favour of sliding his hand underneath it, before kissing him with enough force to steal his breath away.  
Or at least catch Heero off guard, which is Duo's favourite thing to do.

Heero's still not resisting.  
"Can your laptop do this?" Duo asks as he grinds against him. Heero blinks.  
"Even if it could, you broke it by throwing it into a wall," Heero answers dryly.  
"Damn straight I did," Duo says before claiming Heero's mouth again. "That's what you get for not having your priorities straightened out."


End file.
